About three years have passed since the day I mysteriously found myself in this new world. My current name is Ardiel Elindrel, and I still really can't think of it as anything but cliché to some fantasy novel character from back in my old world, but I guess it doesn't sound all that bad. It could've been worse so I'm not gonna complain about.
I was born as the son of Leotruil and Eleanor Elindrel. My father Leotruil, I refer to him as Leo for short, is a soldier for the Kingdom of Elvedriel. The kingdom I was born into by the way. And from the moment I was "born", I already understood him to be a very cheerful and childish kind of guy. I have nothing against that, but it was quite the culture shock in comparison to what I thought of the wise and graceful elves from the fantasy films I watched in my old world.
On the other hand, my mom in this world, Eleanor was the exact definition of an Elf. Charismatic, graceful, intelligent, and offers a regular reprimand to my father for fooling around. Like this guy once picked me up and started chucking me into the air and catching me. The reaction of my mother scared even me even though I wasn't the target of that anger. Long story short I am sure my father will never have a thought about doing something like that ever again. But she is a very kind woman, don't get me wrong. It's just that she isn't the type to tolerate any kind of roughhousing or idiotic behavior.
So yeah, dad is a little bit of an airhead. He is tall and athletic, with short silver hair, cut so that it hangs just above his ears, eyes that are emerald green, and defined facial features and jawline. Judging by his physical appearance, he has the looks of a man in his mid-twenties, and his face is completely free of facial hair. I suppose this is how elves are, but I could be wrong.
Mom was shorter than my father and slimmer but held herself up with the grace of a warrior. I can't imagine her holding a sword though, however she is visibly lean but strong, just like my father. Her hair falls almost to her waist and is a gleaming white color. She too has emerald eyes, and a kind face, completely unfitting of her usually serious demeanor.
From the two of them, I inherited the silver hair and emerald eyes. And from the looks of it in terms of facial features, I resemble my father, so I suppose I will grow up to look like him more than Mom.
***
Our house was situated on the trunk of one of the great trees on the outskirts of the Kingdom's capital city of Aveildar. Yeah, a treehouse so to say. It wasn't cramped, but surprisingly quite spacious for a tree house. One difference with it as opposed to the houses back on Earth, was its lack of inner walls or doors. The home was just one big space. The kitchen, living room, and bedrooms, all being connected, separated by only perhaps the curtains hanging off the ceiling.
The ceiling and walls of our home were lined with thick branches of the tree our house was situated on. It seemed as if the walls and roof were fused in with the branches, creating some kind of natural symbiosis between natural and artificial. Through the patterned windows, shone warm yellow sunlight throughout the entire day, creating a peaceful and cozy atmosphere.
A year ago, when I was two, was the first time I ever left the premises of my home. That time, my mom decided to take me to the market in the center of the city, strapped to her in some kind of baby seat or backpack, whatever you want to call it. The center was exactly what you could have expected from fantasy elves.
If I were to describe it in two words, it would be pristine, and ethereal. Each building was built so that it seemed to blend in with the surrounding forest. Their coloring, design, and being covered in vegetation, all added to their natural appearance. The streets unwinded in arcs, beside them were what seemed like cherry blossom trees, their pink canopies swaying over the walkways, and every few moments releasing a handful of pink petals that swirled and twirled in the warm breeze. The paths themselves followed along a nearby stream, twisting and turning following it. It did add a graceful appearance to these paths, but at the same time, it would be more cost-efficient to make them straight, or perhaps even out the river itself. I guess I just don't understand elven culture yet.
Bridges were made of milk-white marble arched over its crystal-clear waters, their railings etched with carvings and silver filigree. High above the city, among the canopies and branches of the great trees, were the treetop homes of the elves. Now I have to say that not all elves here lived in the treetops, contrary to one of the many popular stereotypical beliefs. Some had regular homes at the bottom.
Those treetop abodes were the same type of homes that I live in myself. A series of wooden platforms, each with a set of houses, going up the trunk. Suspended bridges going from one tree to another, connected these platforms, and at times, individual homes. The massive green canopies of the great trees covered these homes, and the city below, from the hot sun, but letting just enough through to create rays of glowing golden sunlight.
Near the center of the city stood the royal palace. By the way, this was the first time I ever saw a palace in my life, both in this one and my previous one. You can't find many buildings that suit the definition of a "palace" in the US, and I never traveled anywhere out of the country, but even the beautiful historical buildings there couldn't compare to the magnificent grandiose of the palace.
It was built from the bottom up with marble and some kind of other material I couldn't describe, something metallic, some kind of bronze or silver. The palace was covered in some places, especially near the doors and windows, with intricate patterns and delicate filigree, each detail was masterfully designed by elven artisans and sculptors. Its towering ivory-colored metallic spires at the very top, rose towards the sky, letting out a bronze gleam in its rays.
It truly was a sight to behold, and I could have gazed at this stunning view for the entire day if I wasn't strapped to my mom's back. We also had to go to the market, not hang around sightseeing.
The market itself was no less breathtaking than the rest of the city. Arched doorways led into shops, presenting displays of masterfully crafted merchandise, and regular tented stands, lined the street. Assumingly made by the most skilled elven masters and artisans, on these displays were neatly stacked robes and tunics, woven out of silk. Jewelry crafted from sapphires, diamonds, gold, and emeralds. A captivating sweet scent lingered in the air from a nearby patisserie and the flowers that lined the street. I saw a blacksmith, which was quite strange as I didn't expect to see an elven blacksmith. I thought that was more of a human or dwarf thing. He was presenting his finest works, lining his display were blades and bows of varying sizes and designs.
The swords are slender and graceful, seemingly lightweight but sturdy. Crafted with gently curving edges that seem to flow seamlessly from hilt to tip. Each blade had its own unique painted pattern on it, be that swirls, leaves, or intricate linear designs. The blade glowed and shimmered in a blinding shine, so pure and clean that you could easily mistake it for a mirror. Their hilts, adorned with carvings of silver filigree were not less captivating than the blades themselves. The bows, crafted from dark wood, were elegantly curved, their smooth surfaces polished to a shine. Additional designs such as vines and leaves at the tips of the bow carved from wood were present.
***
That was one of the main events that happened during my three years in this world, but the rest of the time, it was just me being a newborn. I noticed, for my shame and embarrassment, that I could not control my bowel, and thus, peeing and pooping in my pants was a regular occasion. It was degrading beyond belief, so at those times I wished I just lost all my memories and become a regular infant. Like what do you expect from me, a grown man, when I am in the body of a baby crapping myself all over the place?
But that aside, and as amazing as the city was, what piqued my interest possibly even more was one particular book I found on my dad's bookshelf. Often I would be sneaking around the house, inspecting things, and constantly worrying Eleanor by doing so. Be that the furniture, the kitchen, or staring out of every window I could manage to climb up onto. One day, two months after I turned three years old, I decided to examine the bookshelf, on the lowest shelf there stood a book. By this time I already spoke the language and figured out how to read, which sparked great excitement from my dad, and a heartfelt embrace from my mom. He then went bragging to God knows who about me being a genius or something, but back to this book I found.
Wear and tear was visible, and when I opened it I was met with a cloud of dust. C'mon, weren't elves supposed to be like anti-dirt or something? How could such a dusty book be present in our household? But I forgot all about the fact that my face was covered in dust when I figured out what this book was about. A book of magic.
I had some suspicions that this world may contain magic, given all of its fantasy aspects, but even though I was half expecting magic to be present in this world, it was a huge shock for me to actually confirm its existence. So now, what should I, an office worker, a grown man who was transported into the body of an elven infant in a world full of magic supposed to do? That's exactly right, become known as the child prodigy who mastered magic at a young age.
I mean, what else should I do? I read enough novels in the past where a character who retained his memories became a magical prodigy because of that. And now I literally have the chance to copy those stories, and become one of those characters myself. It's like killing two birds with one stone. First, my childish dream will come true, and second, if I do become a magical prodigy, then this life would definitely not go to waste. When I was born, I swore to myself to not become a bum as I was in my last life.
I have been given a second chance to start life anew, and curse me if I let it go down the drain as I did with my old one. Hell no. I will be pushing myself through blood, sweat, and tears, to distance myself away from such a life as far away as possible. No more sitting on my ass, no more going to parties, or whatever equivalent of them there is in this world, and learning everything I can. Knowledge is key, a lesson I learned the hard way a while back. This was a new world, a new life, a new opportunity. And I would be one huge idiot if I don't go for this opportunity that literally, well no, figuratively, had its arms wide open and is calling out to me.
I was reincarnated into a loving family, a beautiful kingdom, and into an amazing world of magic. If I can learn it, and no doubt I will, this life would already not go to waste.
Hah, the benefits of having this cheat skill called a mature brain sure came in handy!